


thank u, next

by cuttlemefish



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Baby Fic, Babysitter Yuuri Katsuki, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, F/F, F/M, Get together fic, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Viktor is a DILF, Viktor is probably an aspiring desperate housewife, baby via surrogate, cafe owner mari katsuki, former lawyer yuuri katsuki, former skating legend viktor, georgi and anya are married, mention of emil flirting with viktor but it's not serious, mention of past viktor relationship with an ex, mila and sara are married, small town, viktor is a single parent trying his best, viktor is trying to date, viktor just wants a husband, yuuri bonding with a baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:19:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuttlemefish/pseuds/cuttlemefish
Summary: Yuuri is so fucked. Viktor Nikiforov, his new neighbor, has a poodle and a baby strapped to his chest and is, apparently, totally, 100% single and looking to mingle. “Thanks for babysitting!” he says, cheerful and dressed for speed-dating success. And all Yuuri can do is smile and nod as he bounces the baby: “No problem! I hope it goes well.” (He totally doesn’t want things to go well. He wants Viktor to meet no one so he can be all Yuuri’s. And, did the baby just throw up on his shirt? Why?) Or, single father Viktor is hoping to find his future husband at a speed-dating event and hires babysitter Yuuri to look after his baby, not knowing Yuuri is his ex's former lawyer, who is nursing a guilty conscience after leaving his former career and life behind. But could it be that Viktor's future husband is actually back home, already bonding with the baby that makes so many other men run? It's hard dating with kids.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time forever ago, this plot was inspired during a session of the fake fic title game. The original fake fic title was DILF, but I decided to throw some Ariana Grande at it and so here we are! This is just coming from a shameless desire to see Yuuri bonding with a baby...  
> UPDATES ON FRIDAYS (edit: changed to every other Friday.)  
> Come hang out at CuttleMeFishWrites (Tumblr) or CMFWritings (Twitter).

Viktor isn’t sure that people plan on being single parents. Okay, so, surely, there must be people in the world that _do_ plan to have and (more importantly) potentially raise a baby alone, but Viktor just wasn’t one of those people, and he would very much like it if his neighbor, Mr. Cialdini (Celestino with the big hair), would _stop_ judging Viktor for that one time he accidentally went to the community singles’ party with a baby strapped to his chest.

Technically, Viktor had thought it was a community welcome party, not a singles’ mixer, and it wasn’t like he could leave Natalya with anyone during her colicky stage. He also had yet to meet Mila and Sara back then, so it was either avoid meeting his neighbors or take the baby—and every single guide gifted to him at Natalya’s birth _said_ to build a support network.

And Viktor hadn’t had a support network when he’d moved with Natalya to the middle of nowhere in hopes of escaping media attention for a while. It wasn’t like Yakov hadn’t offered _Lilia’s_ help, but that just wasn’t realistic. So, Viktor—through no fault of his own—ended up with the sole custody of a newborn, his dog, a monthly paycheck, and a lot of gold medals stuffed in a closet in the middle of suburbia, writing his _memoirs_ as a living legend of the skating world. But a lot of things hadn’t gone like Viktor expected post-retirement: For one, the surrogate and, by default, the baby had been his ex’s idea. Of course, because his ex was (probably still _is_ ) an incorrigible man-child with a trust-fund the size of Saturn (rings included) and the whiplash indecisiveness of a confused cheetah, and Viktor had been the one to use _his_ sperm, Viktor was the one that got the baby.

Viktor takes a good look at himself in the mirror one last time, checking that his butt looks perky in a pair of gray sweatpants. Next to him, Makkachin woofs encouragingly, picking up her leash with her mouth. “Makka, shush,” Viktor reminds her, scratching behind her ears.

Thankfully, Natalya is still dozing off against his chest, strapped tightly in a sling while wearing her baby workout clothes. It’s little hard to run with her like this now. She’s bigger compared to last month, let alone a few months back when he first started running with Sara and Mila.

Every morning, Viktor goes running with his neighbors Sara and Mila, a couple of married lawyers that met as roommates when they both started at their firm at the same time and needed a place to stay nearby. Mila had invested in real estate. After a year, Sara had invested in Mila. A veritable Hallmark romantic comedy. It’s the kind of ending Viktor would’ve wanted for himself: Moving to suburbia with a baby to find his future husband. Instead, he’s still on the search and, as he learned at the community singles’ mixer, people have a lot of feelings about parenting babies…

“Viktor!” Sara knocks on the door. He can hear her trotting in place. “Are you ready?”

He opens the door with a flourish, holding tight to Makkachin’s leash.

“Tada!"he points at Natalya's little sparkly pink headband, "We’re ready for our daily run!”

Sara grins, calling Makkachin over to pet her. Makkachin remains very still, waiting for instruction so as not to pull her owner down the stairs.

Mila coos, leaning down to pat Natalya’s blonde fluff, “Hello, cutie! Good morning!” She takes a moment to glare at Viktor, poking him on the shoulder. “Viktor, she’s getting too big for a sling. I thought we agreed that you need the stroller.”

“You think?” he blinks repeatedly, considering the proposal again. Viktor had always felt a little weird about running with the stroller, like it might be bulky or rattle Natalya too much. Sure, the sling couldn’t work forever, but he could still handle the weight now. “I don’t mind. It’s like strength training!”

Sara nods, waving him inside with a touch much gentler than her wife, “I think it’s time. Not that we didn’t poll all the community singles and received 100% agreement that having you carry her in a sling is just the right amount of cute to soften your scorching hot facade, but she’ll be more comfortable with the stroller and so will you. Come on, go get the stroller.”

“Really, 100%?” Viktor asks, as they usher him back into his house so he can grab the stroller from the closet. He sighs, handing Sara the leash and taking off the sling carefully as Mila grabs for Natalya. She bounces the baby gently against her hip, shushing her as she begins to stir. Viktor sets up the stroller with ease, scrunching his nose as he says, “You didn’t poll Mr. Cialdini, did you?”

“Of course not!” Mila lies, giving him a big smile. Sara snorts next to her.

“Alright, well, let’s go,” Viktor chuckles, taking the baby back to slowly strap her into her stroller. Sara takes charge of Makkachin, while Mila helps him carry the stroller down the steps and, soon, they’re on their way down the empty road. Their morning run has become almost a tradition for Makkachin, Viktor, and Natalya. They run, gossip a bit about the neighborhood, and then return to Viktor’s for some coffee and breakfast. “So, a poll, huh?”

“Yup! Emil Nekola had a lot of opinions,” Mila shares, not the least bit subtle as she keeps pace with Sara and Viktor. Makkachin follows ahead, sometimes taking a minute to sniff a neighbor’s lawn.

“Oh my god, really?” Viktor squeals. “Well, maybe I should take him a pie. Just to thank him for all the free coffee. He’s my daily source of caffeine. I don’t even have to set the coffee pot anymore, which saves me a lot of time for diaper duty.”

Sara elbows him, “Viktor, do _not_ bake him a pie."

"I wasn't going to bake it, just take him one."

"My point is that desperate housewife is not a good look. We’ve talked about this. You’ll find someone when you least expect it. And, if it _is_ Emil, then so be it, but let him work for it.” 

“But _when_?” he whines, blowing at the fringe of his hair. “Do you know how long I’ve been single now? And this one here keeps growing like a weed. Before I know it, I _will_ have done the whole parenting thing by myself and I’ll have real gray hairs.”

“It’s not like you’ll be able to tell the difference,” Mila chuckles.

“Oh, you can. There’s this minute difference between platinum blond and gray hairs, but it’s there. Trust me, it’s there. Speaking of being forever alone, any chance I can have you two look after Tashia and Makkachin this Friday? Chris got us into this speed dating event at Bloom Bar, and taking Tashia is not an option. You know, for once I wish they would have these things be family events…”

“We would love to, but we can’t,” Sara responds immediately, worrying at her bottom lip.

“Is it because of the colicky stage? She’s finally outgrown it! And Makkachin no longer chews on shoes. Not that she has since she was a puppy, unless the shoes are ugly.”

Mila shakes her head, “No, Viktor, you know we’d usually love to watch Tashia and Makka, but we’ll be out of town this weekend for our wedding anniversary. Next time, definitely. You know we never say no.”

“And Chris will be going with me. Anya already threatened to divorce Georgi if he brings any more kids—even temporary additions—to their horde of seven. How she ever accepted to have that many, I will never understand.”

“Well, triplets run in both their families.”

Mila gives her wife a side glance, “Yes, but no one expects to have _two_ sets of triplets right after the other. That poor woman must have been paying for some sort of past life karma. I don’t blame her for putting a limit to the madness. But _there’s_ an idea! Why don’t you ask the Popovichs for the name of their babysitter?”

“Oh, yes!” Sara gushes almost immediately, clasping both hands together, as they stop to stretch in front of Emil Nekola’s house. Makkachin chooses then to pull her over towards a tree to bark at a squirrel. Viktor tries to make sure his ass pops as he uses the stroller as a prop. It’s not that Viktor feels any actual attraction towards Emil Nekola, but in a drought beggars can’t be choosers and Viktor has been in a literal desert. Not to mention that Tashia could use a kind, single, doctor daddy that jogged out of his house to give Viktor coffee every morning. From the middle of Emil’s lawn, Sara yells, “I think they’ve been hiring Yuuri Katsuki. You know, Mari Katsuki’s brother?”

Emil jogs down his driveway in a pair of red shorts and a skin-tight white t-shirt. Mila hums knowingly, giving Viktor a wink: “Play it cool.”

“I’m always cool,” Viktor pouts, making sure to pop his hip as he gives Emil a disarming smile. “Morning Emil.”

“Hey guys! Thanks for letting me join. Oh, here, Viktor, figured you could use a coffee,” Emil says, handing Viktor the portable cup before leaning down to check inside the carriage. “Hey there, Ms. Tashia. Aren’t you looking alert this morning.”

“She’s awake already?” Viktor blanches, practically bumping Emil out of the way to check on his daughter. Tashia yawns, stretching out her fingers as she begins to focus on Viktor’s face. She’s not quite awake yet, still shaking off the last remnants of sleep. But Viktor knows he needs to keep a bottle in hand, or else risk waking up the neighborhood. He speaks to her in soft French, shushing her to close her eyes again. When she purses her pink lips and her breath evens out again, he deflates, “Close call.”

“Sorry,” Emil whispers. Viktor wants to tell him not to worry, maybe even throw a wink for good measure, but Mila seems intent on running them on schedule—or at least making sure Viktor doesn’t show he’s burning in the desert. Desperate is not a good look for him.

“Okay, okay, back to running,” Mila claps her hands, “So, Mari Katsuki has a brother?”

“Yeah, Yuuri, he’s a good guy. He just moved to town, actually. I think she said he was some big lawyer, but he had some sort of stress-related breakdown and moved in with Mari to take a break. He’s been helping her out at the café and takes on odd jobs here and there. In fact, he re-organized my home office. I swear he’s better than Marie Kondo,” Emil nods. “Want me to take over stroller duty for a minute, Viktor?”

“Not all Japanese people are minimalist organizers. Gosh, Emil,” Mila rolls her eyes playfully.

“I wasn’t trying to imply—”

“Stop, my darling wife here is just messing with you,” Sara huffs, pinching Mila’s arm. She’s almost out of breath dealing with Makkachin.

Viktor steps aside, careful to hand the stroller over, “Thanks, Emil. Mari Katsuki is the owner of the café in town, right? She has a great chicken salad. I could eat that chicken salad every day of my life. Actually, I think I did eat that chicken salad all day, every day my first month here. They deliver.”

“That’s the one!” Sara nods, handing the leash over to Viktor, “Georgi told me he’s, like, the baby whisperer. Or was it Seung-gil who said he was the dog whisperer…? I can’t recall, but he’s some type of animal and/or baby whisperer, so it sounds exactly like what you need. I’ll get the number from Georgi later at work and send it to you.”

“I can’t just let a stranger take care of my baby,” Viktor shakes his head. “Babies. Sorry, Makka.”

“Well, when do you need a babysitter?” Emil asks. “You know, we’re all friends here. I’d be happy to look after them. As long as it’s not this Friday. I have a date this Friday.”

Viktor looks down at his coffee, “it was for this Friday.”

“Oh, sorry, Vik, but next time. Always keep me in mind. I love my furry and human nieces,” Emil pats his shoulder, giving him a large, beaming smile – as bright as the big neon sign now painted over Viktor’s head reading _friend-zoned_. At least Mila and Sara are kind enough not to say anything during breakfast.

.

It’s not that Viktor minds being alone all that much.

Tashia runs her chubby fingers through Makkachin’s fur, pulling the dog to lay down with her on the ground. Makkachin woofs, low and gentle, like she knows to keep her tone down. She probably does now, after months of being exposed to her tiny charge. Viktor starts, turning his attention back to them when Tashia squeals.

“What’s going on with my two best girls, huh?” he asks, crawling on the floor to reach for a few wooden blocks. Tashia coos, making some smart-sounding noises as she stretches out a hand for one of the blocks. “This one? The red one? No, the blue one?” he chuckles, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead.

She almost topples backwards, digging her little fingers against his shirt to try to pull herself up. _Amazing_ , he thinks to himself, brushing her hair back. _You keep growing by the day_ , he sighs, taking stock of the many pictures of his baby littering the entire house in different colored frames. _And I have no one to share it with_.

And isn’t that the real problem with being alone: Viktor just wants someone to experience this with, that’s all.

.

Babysitting is actually not a bad gig for Yuuri, so when he gets the call from Anya Popovich asking him if it’s okay to give his information to one of their neighbors (“He’s a single Dad and really could use some help with his daughter and dog. They’re both a delight. I just can’t have another kid in this house, Yuuri!”), Yuuri is totally on board. He knows Mari isn’t pressuring him to help with rent or anything, but despite needing to rest, Yuuri is actually not very good at being idle and his therapist agreed that having a job would be good for him, especially after everything that has happened and so long as it didn’t involve too much stress. But Yuuri is naturally really good with kids and dogs, and both tend to help him get out of his own head—and he really needs to get out of his own head after seeing Viktor Nikiforov the other day at his sister’s café.

However, when he gets the call, it’s obvious the man on the other side of the line is struggling as he tries to just give Yuuri and address and a time—to the point where Yuuri doesn’t even have an opportunity to ask for his name. But the house is only a block from his house, so it doesn’t feel like a big deal between neighbors. What’s the worst that could happen?

“If it’s Nikiforov, you come straight home,” Mari warns him, scratching behind Vicchan’s ears as she snacks on popcorn. “Do not stay. Do not pass go and collect $200. Come home.”

“Like Viktor Nikiforov is going to be living in this neighborhood,” Yuuri chuckles, waving his sister’s commentary off. “See you later, Mari!”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” she says, changing channels.

Mari has a point. Technically, Yuuri has a really _bad_ track record when it comes to worst case scenarios and Viktor Nikiforov.

To make it clear: Yuuri is not an obsessive fan. He’d just been a childhood skater with big dreams thanks to Viktor Nikiforov, but he’d also been a better dancer and yet, somehow, he’d ended up in law school. So, Yuuri? – Yuuri is more like the king of unforeseen scenarios and unexpected results, and all roads seem to lead to Viktor Nikiforov like the fates are laughing at his long-time crush on someone that doesn’t even know he exists. If anything, Yuuri isn’t trying to run _to_ Viktor, so much as away from him.

It all makes perfect sense when Yuuri has a chance to explain it to people, but he doesn’t get that chance often because it’s not like he brings it up with strangers.

The story is actually a little depressing. He plays it over in his head as he walks down the neighborhood to his appointment. A little while back, Yuuri had been a big, hot-shot lawyer, sought-after by the rich and the famous and had ended up with a very strange case in hand in which a certain ex-boyfriend of a skating legend hired Yuuri to figure out what to do about his in-vitro baby. Things had spiraled out of Yuuri’s (and, to be fair, Phichit’s) control, and now he was in the middle of nowhere suburbia trying to start over, but mainly hoping to forget that he helped a good man get stuck with a baby and a quarter of the child support check he deserved.

.

Yuuri is so fucked. The fates really are laughing at him.

Viktor Nikiforov is the poor single father in need of a babysitter. Of course, forget the fates… the _entire_ universe is laughing at Yuuri by bringing him right to the door of his new neighbor, who has a poodle and a baby strapped to his chest and is, apparently, totally, 100% single and looking to mingle. The poodle barks at Yuuri, jumping behind Viktor as he steps aside to let Yuuri come inside.

“Yuuri, right?” Viktor says, and Yuuri realizes right away that he hasn’t recognized him – probably because Yuuri does look different with thick-framed glasses, tussled hair, and a long-sleeved sweater. He looks practically nothing like his previous life. Maybe that’s a good thing.

“Yeah, Yuuri. And this is…?” he asks, tickling under the baby’s chin. She grabs one of his fingers and shakes, already delighted as she kicks out her legs.

“This is Natalya, but you can call her Tashia, right, my darling? Thanks _so_ much for babysitting, Yuuri! I hear you’re the baby whisperer, or is it the dog whisperer? I have one of each, so your talents are appreciated either way!” he says, cheerful and dressed for speed dating success. For a man that got stuck with the custody of a baby he was forced to keep, Viktor seems completely devoted to Tashia.

It does something for Yuuri’s conscience, even as Mari’s words play over and over in his head. Now is probably the moment when Yuuri should walk away, but that would leave Viktor in a huge bind. Hasn’t he, technically, done enough to mess with Viktor’s life already? The least he can do is act as his budget babysitter so he can find some happiness in life. But, then again, Viktor is in this situation partly _because_ of Yuuri, so he should apologize and go. Instead, all Yuuri can do is smile and nod as he receives a bouncy, squealing baby: “No problem, I hope it goes well!”

“Thank you,” Viktor says, earnest and soft as his eyes look deep into Yuuri’s own—and he is _fucked_. “I hope it goes well, too.”

(Except, and this probably makes him a truly horrible person, beyond the whole bad lawyer rep from his shameful past… Yuuri realizes then that he totally doesn’t want things to go well.

In a perfect world, Viktor would meet no one so he can be all Yuuri’s.

Wait, did the baby just throw up on his shirt? _Why_?)

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I swear she’s outgrown the colicky age,” Viktor apologizes, fretting as he takes the baby back. He holds her against his chest as he rushes to the kitchen. “I’ll get you something to clean that right up!”

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much everyone for the support! Sorry we're seeing this Saturday, instead of Friday. I came home and... fell asleep? So here we go!
> 
> Quick thing, bear in mind that the nickname Tashia is not a Russian thing, but we'll make that make sense soon enough. Don't worry! A lot of the diminutives below are valid (unless I mispelled something) and vetted/provided thanks to the wonderful support of Glitterpile (AO3). 
> 
> A special thanks to my buddy Jackie for the lovely banner. <3 Thanks lovey!
> 
> As always, you can find me over at CuttleMeFishWrites (tumblr) and CMFWritings (twitter).

Thankfully for Yuuri, the universe isn’t actually petty enough to use a baby to make him pay for his crimes against Viktor Nikiforov. Either that, or the universe at least understands that Yuuri is trying to walk away from his shameful past to reform his life and has decided to take on this opportunity to magnanimously make it up to Viktor by being a wonderful babysitter to his baby. Still, Yuuri’s not sure he’s ready to deal with a sick baby.

“Are you okay, Tatusya?” Viktor whispers sweetly, voice soft as he cleans his daughter’s mouth with a wet rag. By his feet, Viktor’s big, brown poodle whines, pawing at his thigh. “It’s okay, Makka. I think our Talya is just fine. Right, mon chou?”

The baby seems fine now, basking in the glowing affection she’s receiving from her father. Viktor seems completely in his element, taking small sidesteps to comfort her as he sprinkles what Yuuri can only recognize as a French pet name and potentially Russian-sounding nicknames.

Yuuri’s shirt, on the other hand, has not recovered and probably won’t, even after a load of laundry.

When the doorbell rings, Viktor looks unsure for a minute.

“Maybe I should stay with her. Tusya isn’t prone to throwing up.”

Yuuri considers the situation at hand. If he’s going to earn brownie points with karma, he needs to at least give his best effort, massive crush the size of Saturn completely pushed aside. He stretches out his arms, motioning for Viktor to hand over the baby. He seems reticent to hand her over, but eventually lets Yuuri take over.

“Uh, Tusya? Tusya will be fine. Babies, uh, are known for spit-up. If I think there’s anything to worry about, I’ll call you right away. Promise. You should go have fun.”

The doorbell rings again, insistently. Natalya curls up against Yuuri’s chest, admiring her handiwork on his shirt. She gurgles as her little hand fists insistently around a bunch of cotton. It’s endearing in a way Yuuri never imagined. The Popovich’s baby mostly sleeps, but she’s also much younger than Natalya, who is starting to blossom into the personality she’ll likely take as a toddler.  

“Well, okay,” Viktor sighs, just as another, rumbling voice enters the conversation.

“You really should lock your door. This is the suburbs, not Full House. Are you honestly not ready? Don’t tell me the babysitter didn’t show up because this event is sold out—Oh, Yuuri! My little honey cake, what are _you_ doing here?”

“I’m the babysitter?” he offers lamely.

“Honey cake?” Viktor mouths at Chris, who makes a weird circular motion with his finger.

It takes Yuuri a second to realize that Chris is referencing his ass again, and he turns a light shade of pink. When he takes a step back, he hits his lower back with the edge of the table and winces. Viktor wastes no time in shoving Chris out of the kitchen: “Can you not harass my baby’s new babysitter just after she already threw up on him?”

“Stop pushing me! I’m going already!”

“Bye, Yuuri,” Viktor gives him an apologetic smile. Makkachin trots behind her owner towards the door. “Thanks again! I left some numbers with a magnet on the fridge. Calling his ass a _honey cake_ , I ought to slap you.”

When the door slams closed, Yuuri feels a sudden sense of relief come over him as he looks down at the baby in his arms.

“Tusya?” he asks her, like she might know any better what she should be called. She ignores him completely for a piece of lint stuck firmly on his arm. And Yuuri sighs, walking them both back to the living room the watch television.

.

The thing about dating with kids is that people often tell you that they like kids, that they even _want_ kids, but most often mean that they want them in the future. Like, the far out future. That’s not an option for Viktor, who, despite Chris’ brilliant advice, doesn’t relent on making his opening question: “How do you feel about kids?”

In his world, it’s kind of the only question that matters, right next to dog allergies.

“Love them. My sister has two kids. I babysit them all the time!” Masumi explains cheerfully. “I’m hoping to adopt someday.”

Viktor beams, leaning forward, “Really? How do you feel about dogs?”

Masumi shrugs disinterestedly, “I’m allergic to dogs. But I grew up with cats. I don’t own any pets at the moment, but I would love to get a British longhair.”

Deal breaker. Viktor couldn’t deal with the potential for anyone to not dote and love on Makkachin with the same intensity of his own love for his puppy. He leans back, trying to come up with some questions to waste time before the bell rings and they have to switch to the next candidate. As Viktor throws out another question, he can see Masumi’s eye wandering over to Chris, and he smiles to himself, realizing that maybe at least one of them is going to get lucky in love tonight.

(The thing is that Viktor’s heart is not into dating tonight. He feels incredibly guilty having left his baby under the care of a total stranger—albeit a very sweet and cute-looking stranger—after she’d thrown up. Viktor has spent the last year and a half of his life completely dedicated to a pregnancy and later a baby, and it’s strange not to have that responsibility, even for a couple of hours. So, when candidate number seven asks if he wouldn’t mind signing his napkin _and_ if he has any interest in leaving, Viktor pulls out a pen and signs the napkin over his lap before saying, “That’s a great idea. Thanks for the chat. Have a good night.” He then walks for a bit before calling for a ride home.)

.

It’s not that his _Natunya_ is a menace, but she’s a bundle of joy sprinkled with giggles. She’s like a little energizer bunny, wanting to explore everything. Considering that his baby’s accomplice is an overactive poodle, though, he’s well aware that he doesn’t have a lot of options for babysitters beyond a very small circle of friends that put up with their niece out of affection (and even then only to a certain extent after Makkachin dug a hole in the Popovich’s garden to bring Natalya a carrot).

When he is dropped off in front of his house, he finds that Yuuri is in his yard with Natalya strapped to his chest and Makkachin peeing over a patch of grass. His dog sniffs the ground proudly, barely spotting him at first. Viktor blinks, surprised to see the relative calmness of both his babies.

 _Maybe he really is the dog/baby whisperer_ , he thinks.  

“Oh Viktor, welcome home,” Yuuri gives him a smile and Viktor is surprised by how disarming a simple smile (all teeth, very white teeth,) when attached to a pair of deep brown eyes behind thick, blue-framed glasses and tousled hair. Viktor has never been the one to go for nerd chic, but Yuuri is the definition of softness. It’s endearing, especially when attached to such a homely welcome. “How did it go?”

Natalya squeals when she spots Viktor, stretching out her arms for him. The way she bounces on the sling threatens to double Yuuri over, but he simply stays in place, feet firmly planted on the ground like it’s an easy feat to handle a dog pulling on a leash and a baby trying to rip from a carrier. _Maybe it is_ , Viktor thinks to himself, reassured (and a little ashamed, given his own struggles). He takes the leash from Yuuri’s hand before reaching down to kiss his daughter’s head.

“Great,” he lies, smile as big as the sun. This is easy. This he can do. Pretend he’s got everything under control and isn’t about to put his baby to bed and cry himself to sleep? Easy.

“That bad?” Yuuri catches his lie almost instantly, looking sympathetic. “Or were you just worried about, uh, Natalya and Makkachin? They were fine the whole time! I just figured I’d take Makka out for a quick potty break, since she kept sniffing at the door.”

“Oh, right. I didn’t get to walk her before leaving,” Viktor sighs, exhausted. Most days, he’s sure he’s forgetting something. “Thanks, Yuuri. I know I kept saying I wanted you to keep an eye on Makka, but I didn’t mean for you to actually pull double-duty.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I don’t mind. They’re both great! This one mostly giggles and this one mainly cuddles on the sofa—and,” his face falters as he realizes his mistake, “I didn’t ask you if Makkachin was allowed on your furniture. I’m so sorry, Viktor. I can clean up fast—”

“She’s allowed everywhere,” Viktor reassures him. And the fact Yuuri didn’t think of it flags that he’s probably a dog person, or certainly not allergic to dogs and – _check_ and _check_. Viktor can’t be thinking of this right now. “Well, let’s go inside so I can pay you and then you can go home early.”

Yuuri shuffles uncomfortable behind him. He’s a little shy, but extremely adorable, in a way Viktor would’ve never imagined finding potentially attractive. Viktor isn’t even sure why his mind is going back to this, again. It’s a dangerous thought, probably brought about from Viktor’s massive desperation made only semi-acceptable thanks to the fact that Yuuri is (unlike the average babysitter) a fully-grown adult man. A man. And maybe Viktor would be having worst thoughts if, like Chris later explained, he’d taken a look at his ass.

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asks him. “You look… kind of tired? I don’t mind finishing up my other hour, if you want to get in some time to read or catch-up on stuff. I imagine having to take care of two energetic girls must be exhausting.”

Viktor realizes this is Yuuri’s job, or side-gig. It behooves him to stretch his work time. But there’s something about _how_ he invites Viktor to take him up on his offer that really enchants Viktor. After all, no one, not even for money, has ever offered to take care of his two girls beyond an agreed time—or vocally noted on the way his eyes are starting to get dark circles and his skin is losing some of its luster.

It’s been a long time since Viktor could just enjoy a bath and a book that wasn’t for the baby.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Viktor sighs. “Who gets a babysitter for when they’re actually home?”

Yuuri shrugs, closing the door behind him: “Well, you could? If you needed one. I’d be happy to help. I don’t think it’s that weird? People get nannies all the time.”

And so, Viktor accepts.

.

 _People get nannies all the time_. Viktor considers this proposition as he stretches out a long leg and smooths some bubbles over his skin. He can almost feel the knots in his neck start to dissolve. It’s not a lie. Technically, yes, people absolutely hire nannies to assist in the raising of a child – _and Yuuri needs a job_. But Viktor also has no idea how good Yuuri might be with a child beyond a couple of hours. _But, you do need help_ , his brain rasps at him again, _you have almost nothing written and need to send a draft of at least a few chapters in a month_.

He stands from the bath tub and reaches for a towel to dry himself off.

Once he’s dressed in a full set of pajamas and a robe, just for decency’s sake, he toes carefully down the stairs and stops in his tracks when he spots Yuuri on the sofa with Makkachin resting by his feet and Natalya stretched out and sleeping next to him.

“How did you get her to sleep?” Viktor whispers, amazed.

Yuuri blinks owlishly, like it’s an entirely foreign concept that a baby wouldn’t want to sleep.

“I rolled out this blanket I found and gave her a bottle and then burped her and we walked around for a bit and then I set her down on her back and she was playing with my hand for a bit so we had a chat and then she went to sleep. It was a lot easier than with the Popovich’s baby. She knows how to self-soothe well.”

Viktor might be in love, which is stupid. He should have more standards than _can put my baby to sleep_ , but seeing as it is difficult to put Natalya to bed, this feels like a miracle. Viktor knows once she’s down, she’s down for the night, but getting there? – _I can’t believe I found a real baby whisperer_ , he cheers internally.

He reaches for Yuuri’s hand immediately, pulling him into a standing position. Makkachin whines, moving away to another corner where she can enjoy some sleep.

“Yuuri! You’re amazing!”

Yuuri blushes again, “Viktor, shush, you’ll wake her…”

“Oh, she doesn’t wake up easily. It’s my one saving grace. But, Yuuri, you’re the real deal – a baby whisperer.”

“What?”

“You have a talent!”

Yuuri shakes his head, “No, no, no. I just. Babies aren’t that hard, really, not for a couple hours. I’m sure it must be a lot harder for you because you have to take care of her all the time, but—”

“And that’s why I want to ask if you’ll consider being our nanny…”

.

The thing is that Yuuri doesn’t actually consider himself very good with babies or children. Dogs he understands. Dogs are easy. Dogs are kind and loyal and soft and cuddly. Yuuri would be happy to earn himself a reputation as the dog whisperer of the neighborhood. The _baby_ whisperer, on the other hand, doesn’t feel as natural. But Viktor really seems to believe it with the way he is clutching tight to Yuuri’s hands asking him to be Natalya’s nanny and – sure! Yuuri completely understands the idea of paying his dues. He has wronged Viktor, helping his ex to get him stuck with a baby and a bad child support deal, but Yuuri has also _paid_ for his crime by taking care of his serious crush’s baby so he can go flirt with other men. At some point, something’s got to give, right?

“Promise me you’ll think about it?” Viktor begs, walking him to the door. “I’m kind of desperate. I’m writing a book and need to submit some work next month, but I’ve had no time to write a thing.”

“You’re writing a book?”

Viktor nods, “my memoirs. Apparently, people really want to hear about the Olympics. And how I became a father. But it’s near impossible for me to sit and focus with a baby and a dog and the million other things—”

“It doesn’t sound like you need a nanny, just a babysitter for some hours to give you the space to work,” Yuuri murmurs. “I couldn’t do a full-time gig. I help my sister Mari at the coffee shop. But I could come by some afternoons, if you really need the help…”

“I wouldn’t want you to be full-time. Despite what you might think, I love taking care of my baby. But I do need help. And the break I just had was the most helpful thing anyone has done for me in months.”

Yuuri considers it for a minute before nodding tentatively, “Okay. Okay, sure. I’ll help. Just call me when you need me. Unless you’d like a schedule from me?”

“I mean, maybe three hours in the afternoon on weekdays? The occasional evening, if I magically find myself someone to date? I don’t think you understand the magic you performed tonight: She never goes to sleep, unless I literally drive her around the block.”

Yuuri chuckles, “I think you’re exaggerating.”

“I’d be happy to pay you even if you just put her down for a nap the entire time,” Viktor begs.

“There’s no need for begging,” Yuuri gulps, hard. “I said I’ll do it. She’s a cute baby and Makkachin is a nice dog.”

“Thank you,” Viktor breathes out in relief. “Thank you.”

.

**Chris**

How did you get home?

**Viktor**

I ordered a cab. It wasn’t as expensive as I thought it’d be…

**Chris**

You know, you should’ve told me you wanted to leave, Viktor

I would’ve left with you

As it was, I spent a good half hour looking for you with Masumi after the whole thing was over

**Viktor**

Did you take him home? ;)

**Chris**

Maybe. But only after I saw your text that you were home

**Viktor**

Then, you’re welcome :) I didn’t want to bother you. You were having a good time. I just wanted to get home to see my baby

**Chris**

Everything was okay?

**Viktor**

Yuuri is a real baby/dog whisperer, I swear, Chris. He put Tata to sleep while I was in the bathtub and it was glorious! I don’t know how he did it

**Chris**

Ah…. honey cake(s)… he’s so yummy

**Viktor**

Hey, don’t talk about my nanny like that! lol

**Chris**

OMG, your nanny? I know how that show ends! ;) I used to be obsessed with Fran Drescher.

So, you gave him a promotion last night? Do tell

**Viktor**

Don’t make it tawdry. There’s nothing to tell. Like I said, he’s the baby whisperer and I **need** a baby whisperer

**Chris**

Well, I hope you’re ready to war with Anya Popovich if you’ve got him on some type of exclusivity. She’s been gushing rainbows about him for weeks now. It’s been a little sickening, actually.

Everyone is out there appreciating his talents, but not his *talents*, you know? What a waste…

**Viktor**

You mean we’re not all objectifying his assets?

**Chris**

You have to admit they’re glorious ASSets

**Viktor**

I didn’t notice actually

**Chris**

… really?!

**Viktor**

Nope

He seems like a nice guy, shy and all, but not much more than that

No spark

**Chris**

Sigh. Okay, Viktor, sure

**Viktor**

Besides, he’s my nanny. Well, technically still my babysitter…

but I’m not risking the baby whisperer over sex

…what’s that supposed to mean?

**Chris**

I love you, but it means that I’m tired of you sabotaging yourself over some hot guy that asked you out ONCE and, according to you, almost ruined your life, but *somehow* you’re still hung up on him

**Viktor**

What are you talking about? I’m not hung up on anyone!

**Chris**

That lawyer?

You’re not still sometimes thinking about that lawyer? Because don’t think you were slick. I saw you Googling law firms

.

Mari knows better than to expect that her brother would do anything rational when exposed to the power that is Viktor Nikiforov in the flesh. She listens to his entire story dumbfounded, sipping her tea intermittently. Yuuri looks haunted, a blanket over his head like a hood as he explains what he just accepted to do and why.

She laughs, “You seriously think the universe is giving you a chance to earn brownie points with karma?”

“How else do you explain the coincidence?” Yuuri gives her a direct look. And he’s got a point. Mari can’t exactly explain how fate has managed to make it so that even when Yuuri was running _away_ from Viktor Nikiforov, he somehow still managed to knock right on his door – and accept to help raise his baby. “This is obviously the powers that be giving me an opportunity to overcome my shameful past.”

“You were a super famous lawyer to the rich and famous making a nice million a year in your own private firm with your best friend in one of the biggest cities in the world. What exactly is shameful about that? Ah, this is about the _eyes_ isn’t it?”

Yuuri sighs. For years, he has been haunted by that meeting. Viktor Nikiforov sitting on the other side of a negotiation table with his own lawyers, trying to figure out how he got involved in this mess in the first place. And the truth is that Yuuri could’ve easily sent it all to hell then and closed the case, but he’d made things stretch because Viktor was pretty and Yuuri had been a hotshot idiot lawyer and—“So, you got a crush on your client’s ex-boyfriend and asked him out. That’s not a crime, Yuuri. You did your job and _then_ tried to send him flowers. And, sure, he slapped you, but he obviously doesn’t remember if he didn’t connect the dots tonight.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” he groans.

His entire reprehensible past with Viktor Nikiforov is complicated. Yuuri knows that much. And, sure, it was the overreaction of the century to leave his entire career and past life behind over a slap and a few frustrated words from a very handsome man, but Viktor had been right. Yuuri had not been a good man at that point in time. He’d only spent the next several months mulling and confirming the fact with each subsequent case.

“We should talk about it, though. Eventually, you need to decide what you want to do with your life,” Mari reaches over to push back to blanket and ruffle his hair. “I love having you here, but you need to get it together, little brother. I’ll support you in whatever you want to do, but, somehow, I don’t think turning your back on the law over a bad case and a little embarrassment is what you want to do.”

“I’m happy here,” Yuuri lies. “It’s quiet here. And I could keep working at the café for a long time. And now that I seem to have a dog and babysitting business, I could manage to eventually find my own place…”

Mari shrugs, “If you say so. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“I’m going to be his nanny. Well, the baby’s nanny that he hired so he can work,” Yuuri corrects.

“I figured that much. I mean, are you going to tell him who you are? He deserves to know.”

“So, he can slap me again?” Yuuri arches an eyebrow.

Mari nods, “And decide if he wants you near his baby. You can’t take that decision away from him Yuuri. Or, you can, but you shouldn’t. Just think about it, alright? And get some sleep. You look like a nervous wreck.”

**TBC**


End file.
